


Please Don't Leave Me

by cabinfeverdreams



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Good guy Jackson, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Protective Scott, Rape Recovery, Stilinski Family Feels, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinfeverdreams/pseuds/cabinfeverdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles lay, huddled in on himself, in the dark room. They, fortunately, gave him a mattress to sleep on. It was old and smelled, but at least he wasn't on the concrete. He learned to count his blessings, no matter how small, since the hunters took him two days ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> pls read the tags.
> 
> if you wanna ask me about progress or anything tag your post on tumblr with "cabinfeverdreamsao3" or ask me directly at whenbaeputsitinthewronghole.tumblr.com.
> 
> kudos/comments are welcome. will update tags as the story progresses probably. will try to post on mondays.

Stiles lay, huddled in on himself, in the dark room. They, fortunately, gave him a mattress to sleep on. It was old and smelled, but at least he wasn't on the concrete. He learned to count his blessings, no matter how small, since the hunters took him two days ago.

He's in the middle of a restful sleep when he hears a roar followed by gunfire, grunts, and several more growls. He sat up on the mattress, back against the wall. He didn't know how much more pain he could take. They deprived him of water and food almost his whole time captive. He was almost delirious. Every hour, on the hour, a couple of men would come in and force themselves on him. They'd tape his mouth and bind his hands with handcuffs. They'd call him "packwhore" and "comeslut" and tell him his pack abandoned him to die.

A body was thrown against the steel door that locked his room. It was silent except for rushed whispers and footsteps. A key was inserted in the lock. It seemed so much louder in the silence. Light from the hallway filled the room and outlined his saviours, his pack mates.  
Kira, Malia, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, Ethan and Aiden stayed in the hallway in case reinforcements came. Derek, Scott, Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Peter were in the room with Stiles. Their bodies tense with what they were smelling. Blood, tears, sweat and come. Stiles' body is where the scents were the strongest.

Scott kneeled down on the mattress, hands waiting in the air. He didn't wanna touch Stiles especially not after what he'd been through.  
Stiles recognized the scent of his best friend, warm like cinnamon cocoa, and threw himself in Scott's arms. Scott wrapped his arms around his sobbing and dangerously thin best friend. He rubbed soothing circles in his friend's back and whispered apologies in his ear.

Eventually Stiles exhausted himself out.

"Let's get him to Deaton," Derek mumbled. Scott nodded and carried Stiles, bridal style, out of the hellhole he was in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of it being Mother's Day I'm gonna post early.
> 
> Song I listened to while writing: It's Only by Odesza
> 
> For progress posts search "cabinfeverdreamsao3" on tumblr or message me directly at whenbaeputsitinthewronghole.tumblr.com
> 
> Kudos/comments are welcomed. I own nothing except the mistakes.
> 
> Warning for slight panic attack.

The pack took Stiles to Deaton's office. He was dangerously malnourished, weak, and delirious when they found him. He woke up several times, eyes glassy, fever way too high, and fighting anything anyone did to comfort him. He exhausted himself out fairly quickly though. A small comfort. Deaton gave him a mix of herbs and some purple liquid he said should restore some life and strength in Stiles. Deaton also hung a necklace of Amethyst, Bloodstone, and Sugalite around Stiles' to help his mind and spirit.

After a worrisome time, four days, Stiles woke up. His eyes were clear, his fever broken, and little bit of color in his cheeks. There was always three pack members with him in case he woke up; it was Scott, Erica, and Derek's watch.

"Ugh," he moaned. The conversation the three wolves were having stopped and they seemed to be holding their breath. Stiles propped himself up on the couch on an elbow, using the other hand to rub his eye. Derek went to fetch him a glass of water, Scott went to call Deaton, and Erica hugged him without thinking.

Stiles screamed and thrashed and Erica let him go immediately, tears pricking her eyes. Scott and Derek rush in. Scott goes to comfort Stiles. He tells him he's safe, Erica's pack, no one is gonna hurt him. He repeats it over and over while not touching Stiles. Stiles is breathing heavily and sweating.

"What happened, Erica?" Derek asks quietly. He's holding her hands in his.

"It's my fault. I-I hugged him cause I was happy to see him alive and not-and not," she buries her head in Derek's chest. He wraps his arms around her.

"It's okay, sweetie. It's okay." He smooths her hair. "Not your fault," the two sit in chairs they took from Deaton's waiting room. Erica has her head on Derek's shoulder, eyes red and puffy.

Scott gets Stiles calm enough to ask questions.

"What happened?" Was his first.

"You were taken." Scott grits out. "For almost a whole month."

Stiles protests. "No way. I was gone maybe two, three days max."

Scott looks back at Derek who gives him a worried look. Erica's face is a mirror of Derek's. He looks back at Stiles.

"Stiles, the hunters had you for twenty-two days. They took you while you slept. We looked day and night for you. We had no idea where you were. We couldn't scent you at all. They had you in a warehouse a few towns over." Scott's hands are in fists. He was beside himself for almost a whole month. He'd snap at his friends who he knew were doing their best. If only he was a better alpha, Stiles wouldn't have been taken.

Stiles' emotions fill the room. Confusion. Pain. Fear. Rage. Loneliness. Anxiety. He takes several deep breaths to calm his heart.

"Are they dead?" Was Stiles' next question. He says it through his teeth, not trusting his voice to not break.

"Dead, throats slashed, and burned." Was Derek's cold reply. Scott is usually the one to try to broker a deal and avoid bloodshed, but not this time. He told he pack to go for the kill, rip their heads off...for Stiles. The pack looked at him in confusion then understanding.

"Good," Stiles replied darkly. He remembered what those bastards did to him all too well. "My dad?"

"He knows. He's at the Hale house with everyone else." Scott informs him. Stiles gets up too quickly and falters. Scott catches him as Derek and Erica move to help. Derek hands him the glass of water.

"You okay man?" Scott asks.

"M'fine. Just moved too fast." Stiles gets up at a slower speed, arm around Scott's neck and allows Scott's arm to wrap around Stiles' waist. Erica walks behind the two as Derek goes to start the car.  
Erica gets in the passenger seat and Scott holds Stiles in the back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a panic attack 
> 
> look for progress posts on tumblr with the tag "cabinfeverdreamsao3" or directly at whenbaeputsitinthewronghole.tumblr.com
> 
> I post on Mondays. Kudos and comments are welcome.

The drive to the Hale house, rebuilt shortly after the pack got it's shit together, is silent and tense. When they pull up Scott helps Stiles out, arm gently on his waist, Derek and Erica walk ahead to warn everybody to keep their distance. Stiles walks into a sea of concerned faces, even from Jackson. The sheriff breaks the silence.

"Stiles," he whispers. Stiles runs into his fathers arms, crying and shaking. John, a usually stoic man, cries with his son. He rubs Stiles' back with one hand and holds his son's head with the other. Stiles is wrapped around his father like he'll fly away if he doesn't. The rest of the pack feels the emotions pouring of the two. Some have to leave to avoid being crushed by it.

Scott goes to sit in the living room. He rubs his temples at the frustration of the situation. There's a huge flat screen that nobody's turned on. The air in the room doesn't feel right enough to joke and laugh. The two break apart and Erica hands them both a glass of water.

"Do you want something to eat Stiles?" She asks timidly. She takes the glasses when they're done.

"No, thank you." He asks. His voice is small and everyone's heart breaks. Stiles is known for being loud and eating whatever he wants, which is usually junk food and candy and generally anything unhealthy.

Erica walks away, anger and sadness on her face. "I-I," Stiles starts to say. She turns around.

"Yeah?" She's hopeful he'll ask for food or anything really. He's still painfully thin.

His pupils dilate and his heartbeat skyrockets. He looks around room as if he doesn't know anyone there. The rest of the pack gather in the living room in case they're needed. "Sc-Sc-Sc-Sc," Stiles falls backwards, but Scott catches him before he can hit the floor. Stiles feels his vision blur and darken around the edges, he can feel his shirt stick to his sweat soaked skin. He can't breathe or focus on anything.

"-iles! Listen to my voice. Find my voice!" Scott scoots them up against the nearest wall, Stiles in the v of his legs and his arms loosely around Stiles. "Stiles, breathe with me, man! You're safe. You're with pack. Nobody's gonna hurt you. You're safe."

Stiles vision comes back in increments. His throat doesn't feel so tight, the pounding in his head lessens. "Scott?" He asks worriedly.

"I'm right here. You're safe. You're with pack." He repeats. "Do you know where you are?"

"Ha-Hale h-h-house,"

"Count your fingers with me," Scott gingerly takes his hand and counts aloud with Stiles. He repeats it a few times until Stiles' breathing evens out. "You okay buddy?" Stiles nods. "You wanna take a nap upstairs?" Stiles shakes his head no.

"No, no, please, pack," his breathing starts to hitch.

"It's okay, Stiles. You can sleep on the couch. Remember? You picked it out because it was the softest. Remember?"

"I do." Stiles looks at the light brown couch. He remembers the day clearly. "Can I have a pillow?"

"Of course. Jackson can you get Stiles' pillow?"

The beta nods quickly and goes to the room Stiles' called dibs on to fetch it. Scott moves them to the couch. "Will you be okay here? I'll be in the kitchen not ten feet away. You call and I'll run, okay?" Stiles nods, not even taking the opportunity to make a dog joke. Jackson brings the pillow to Stiles as Scott walks to the kitchen. He takes the opportunity to say a few words.

"Hey, Stilin-Stiles." He doesn't touch the boy. "We'll get through this, okay? You're a strong person. I know you will." His voice is thick as he walks away. Stiles nods and curls in on himself. He falls asleep quickly.

Jackson stands in the entryway of the kitchen with Derek and Peter to his right. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica lean against the wall. Allison and Lydia sit at the table, cups of coffee in their hands. The twins stand at the backdoor, seemingly guarding it. Kira and Malia sit on the counters, a somber look etched on their faces. 

"What're we gonna do?" Jackson asks the room. He knows everyone heard him except Allison and Lydia. They've probably been filled in.

"We take it one day at a time. That's all we can do." Scott says simply. Jackson starts to protest, but is stopped by Scott. "Stiles won't trust a therapist. The only people he'll let touch him are me and his dad and maybe my mom."

"He's scared of us." Allison concludes. "That's normal of people who've gone through severe trauma like him." Her voice is sharp like steel.

"He could have PTSD." Lydia offers. "We'll have to watch out for that." Scott nods his agreement.

Derek and Peter stiffen as they hear a door open. The pack follow the elder Hales and Scott through the living where Stiles no longer is. Leaves flutter in and the pack can scent Stiles' fresh anxiety and panic and fear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for attempted suicide
> 
> honestly I have no idea where this story is gonna go so it's an adventure for all of us tbh.
> 
> kudos and comments are welcome

The pack spread themselves through the forest, the girls stayed at the Hale house with Melissa John, and Deaton in case Stiles wandered back. The pack couldn't use their sense if smell to track Stiles. For some reason nobody could remember his scent. Even Scott who could pretty much track him through the thickest of crowds couldn't track him now. They just had to keep their eyes and ears peeled for their packmate.

They searched for hours and when Isaac suggested heading home and searching during the day Scott dismissed him.

"Do what you want. I'm not gonna stop until I find him."

"Scott, listen to me," Isaac places a hand on his alpha's shoulder. "I know you're feeling guilty for what happened, but that's not your fault." Scott shook Isaac's hand off and continued to search.

The sun is starting to rise, the colors of the sky turning into beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow, just as Scott came upon a wide clearing, deep in the forest and almost a perfect circle. In the middle, standing and looking at the sunrise, was Stiles. Scott ran to him.

"Stiles!" He yelled. Stiles didn't turn around. Scott walked around to face his friend. In his hand was a knife.

"Scott?" He whispered, still looking at the sky. Tears in his eyes blurring his vision.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I need you to do something for-"

"Anything. You know that." Stiles placed the knife in Scott's hand, curling the fingers around the handle.

Stiles looked at his friend, his best friend, his brother as he whispered "Kill me,"

Scott stepped back. "Stiles, I can't."

Stiles eyes widened and Scott prepared himself for another panic attack. "You said you'd do anything for me! You said-you said!" Stiles grabbed the knife and plunged it into his own stomach, dragging it across the skin. Stiles dropped the knife, looking at his blood stained hands. The world became silent around the two as Stiles started falling back.

"Stiles!" Scott caught his friend. "No, no, no, no, no," Scott picked him up and with him bridal-style to the house. The tears in Scott's eyes fell onto Stiles' face.

Scott bursts into the Hale house and places Stiles on the kitchen table. The pack, wherever they are, rush into the living room. Deaton immediately gets to work, stitching up Stiles' wound. Derek and Peter are on either side of him, assisting him.  
Scott is in his mothers arm, sobbing loudly. She runs her hand up and down his back.

"It's gonna be okay. He's safe now. You did good. Not your fault." She murmurs to him. John looks at his little boy in shock.

The pack is in similar states. Allison and Lydia hold each other's hands. The twins sit on the couch, their faces stoic and stone-like. Kira is in Malia's arms. Erica paces the room while Boyd comforts Isaac. They hear a mournful howl they collectively recognize as Jackson's.

Deaton walks into the living room about an hour later. "He's stable. I've stopped the bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood. We'll have to set him up on an IV." Peter and Derek go to the basement to fetch the IV drip and a bag of blood that matches Stiles'. They hoped they'd never have to use it, but better safe than sorry. "We'll have to move him very delicately."

Scott picks up Stiles' head while Boyd gets his feet. They head up the stairs, to Stiles' room. It's messy just like his room at his dad's. Clothes scattered, books open to various pages, protective runes and symbols etched on the walls, and a corkboard with different pictures tacked on.

In his bed he lies still. Scott tries to convince himself Stiles is sleeping, but Stiles sleeping resembles more of a starfish and less like a coma patient.  
On the spare couch Stiles has, Scott sits never letting his eyes leave his brother's eerily still form. He lets just one of many tears fall.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for brain damage. thankfully I nor anyone I know have had brain damage but if you feel I've gotten it wrong please let me know. 
> 
> I read a fic where stiles had selective mutism and when he talked it was clipped? so I based it off that? 
> 
> will post when I can, kudos and comments are welcome.
> 
> I own nothing. my friend beta'ed for me so any mistakes left are my own.
> 
> also starting a jennifer's body!au soon so look out for that.

It was several hours later, somewhere around 2 am, when Stiles whispered "Sc-Scott?"  
Scott was by Stiles' side in an instant.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm here. You okay?" Scott's hand were mid-air, not sure what to do.

"Wha-t ha-happened?" Stiles struggled to get the words out as if he had some sort of brain damage.

Scott, not wanting to send Stiles into a relapse, carefully said "Something bad happened, but you're at the Hale house. You're safe. The whole pack's here. You're safe. I'm gonna prop you up, okay?" Scott gets several pillows so Stiles can sit up. Stiles grabs his stomach in pain.

"Wh-wher- Jack-son?" Scott could hear Jackson making his way up the stairs. He knows the whole pack is aware of Stiles waking up. Scott puts his hand on Stiles' arm to drain some of pain. Stiles watches the veins on Scott's arms turn black. He relaxes a little now that he's not in so much pain.

"Stiles?" Jackson stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets. There's a tear falling down Stiles' cheek.

"Do you want me to go, Stiles?" Scott asks. He looks between his beta and his best friend. Stiles eyes enlarge.

"N-n-n," he shakes his head. "Stay," Scott nods his head. Jackson comes forward, sitting at Stiles' blanketed feet.

"How you doin'?" His voice is so soft Stiles almost missed his question.

"What hap-ened?" Stiles knows Jackson won't bullshit him even in his current state.

Jackson looks at Scott who give him a firm nod.

"You were taken," Jackson's voice breaks slightly. "For a month." He clears his throat. "We couldn't find you. We couldn't find your scent. There were no witnesses. We eventually found out that some hunters forced a coven of witches to help them. We found the witches. Well, witch. She told us after helping them, the hunters killed her coven. She barely escaped them. She gladly told us where to find them and you." Jackson wipes away tears he didn't even know had fallen with his shirt sleeve. "We brought you home and you had a panic attack. You won't let anyone but Scott, Deaton, and your dad touch you. Scott put you on the sofa and a few minutes later you disappeared. We searched for you all night. Scott found you in a clearing with a knife. You-you,"

"Don't-don- keep goi-ng." Stiles urged.

"You stabbed yourself. Scott brought you home where Deaton stitched you up. That's why your stomach hurts." Jackson points at Stiles' stomach. "Derek and Peter brought you up here and Scott's been by your side since." Scott grabs Jackson's hand and gives him a appreciative smile.

Stiles closes his eyes in concentration. "I wann-a see t-he pac-k."

"Okay. We'll bring them in one or two at a time. Is that okay?"

Stiles gives a sharp nod. 

Jackson leaves to go inform the pack of Stiles' decision. John and Melissa are first. The bags under their eyes scare Stiles. He caused them. "Da-ad, Mel-," They both look at Stiles like he's spun glass. Melissa rubs her thumb on his hand in small circles. John looks like he's barely holding it together.

"How you feeling, son?"

"Been...better." Stiles is trying not to let his dad see the worst of it. His dad just nods.

"Well as soon as you feel better, I'm gonna make you some of those egg and chorizo tacos I know you love so much." Melissa says. Stiles' answering smile is bright. Scott notes the faint happiness in Stiles' scent. They both gives Stiles a soft hug.

Boyd and Erica are next. They sit on the couch where Scott slept. Erica's face is naked of any makeup. Stiles wishes she'd leave it like that more. He makes a mental note to tell her that.  
Boyd's face is stone. Stiles notes his hand on Erica's back.

"Hey, Batman. You have us quite the scare."

"M'sorry, Cat-woman. Didn't mea-n to."

"Don't worry about it. Just get better okay?"

Stiles nods. "You shoul-d not we-ar mak-eup more of-ten. Pret-ti-er." He winks at her. 

She laughs at that. Scott and Boyd, and the rest of the pack who can hear, forgot what Erica's laugh sounds like. "Sure thing, babe." She kisses his forehead. His smile spreads more of the happy through his scent; the panic subsiding a bit.

Boyd gives him a look. A look that says "I don't know how to tell you how scared I was when we thought you were gone. Please don't leave." Stiles understands this perfectly.

"Chee-r up Boyd. I'm hom-e. Safe." Stiles holds his hand up for a high-five. Boyd doesn't leave him hanging.

They send in Allison and Lydia. Allison's hair is in a bun. Lydia has hers in a braid. They're both clean faced. Lydia's biting her lip, so Allison speaks.

"Hey," Allison says. "You feelin okay?"

Stiles gives a shrug.

"You missed the new Avengers movie," she informs him. His face looks both equal parts upset and mad. He looks at Scott.

"Yo-you didn-t t-tell me? Not b-est frie-nd." He fakes pouts.

"Stiles," the exasperation in his voice is very familiar to Stiles considering he's heard it since second grade. "So you don't wanna watch the deluxe directors edition I got for you?"

"Never-mind. St-ill best fri-end."

"I thought so." Scott is the picture of smug. The happiness in Stiles' scent is strong.

"He-y Lydi-a"

She doesn't say a word which is not good. Stiles knows that particular look. That's her "you're hurt and I can't slap you even though I'm half a second away from doing it anyway" look. Stiles has seen it too many times. In fact, she does slap him. Not full force obviously.

"M'sorry!"

"You look at me, Stilinski." When Lydia uses your last name it means she's beyond pissed and you should be begging for forgiveness. "Don't you EVER attempt to kill yourself again or I will end you."

Stiles looks down at his blanket sullenly.

"With that being said, I'm glad you're okay." She kisses him on the forehead and also thumps him. He looks at her in mock betrayal.

Stiles' eyes droop with exhaustion. The rest of the pack, Aiden, Ethan, Kira, and Malia will see him when he wakes up.

"cott?" He mumbles, half asleep.

"Yeah, whatcha need?"

"Lay wit-h me?" The two haven't shared a bed since they could both for comfortably on one. Maybe five years ago?  
There's some shuffling before Scott can hold Stiles against his chest, arm draped around his best friend.

"-ove you," Scott faintly hears.

"Love you too, buddy." Scott whispers into Stiles' hair before he drifts off.


End file.
